


Its Just Dinner

by Jali



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jali/pseuds/Jali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two years since she set out, her starter and empty Pokédex in hand, and two months since beating the league and becoming the new Kalos Champion. Now with her Pokédex completed, there's just one last thing she wants to capture... </p><p>[Sycamore x OC female trainer] </p><p>T for minor swearing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had taken the better part of a month to Fly, Surf, Rock Climb, fish, hike up and down mountains, various paths, back into creepy old dilapidated buildings, and haul her way all the way back up Victory Road, but she had done it. And then she’d flown back home to Vaniville, released her Delphox’s kit from its Pokéball, and gone to sleep for about three days, leaving her room only when her stomach and the call of nature demanded it.

Meanwhile outside, winter howled and the boiler in the basement of their old house huffed and puffed and blew all the heat into the upper levels of the residence that it could, but it was still not enough. The warm cocoon of blankets and a fluffy fire-type kit were, though, and every time she had to leave her bed, she cringed at the cooler air outside her tidy nest.

Halfway through her third day spent in bed, the howling stopped and the skies cleared, revealing Vaniville buried just enough to keep people home from work and school, but not enough to keep the younger children from plunging into the windswept snowbanks where once front yards had been.

It was also around this time that her Holo Caster began to chime insistently. Spitfire stood and stretched before plucking the device off her nightstand and handing it to her. She hit the answer button and buried her face in her pillow again.

“Mmnghugh… Hello?”  
 _“Salut, mon championne~”_

She stiffened. _Oh HELL no. Of all the times he had to call…_

_“Enfin, you have picked up my call. Are you well? It looks like you are still in bed.”_

She bolted upright, her duvet flying back and knocking a statuette off the windowsill. Wide-eyed, she flailed and tried to catch it, nearly falling face-first off the bed and pulling a muscle in her shoulder in the process. The holo-call continued, unphased.

_“Is this a bad time? In the wake of that storm, I felt it prudent to check on my friends and partners, you see. Many are without power and others are trapped.”_

The statuette was caught most ungracefully, and she prayed her rear wasn’t smack-dab in front of the Holo Caster’s camera. Spitfire diligently picked up the gadget, hopped of the bed, and came around to the foot, where she was struggling to regain cranial altitude over her rear and place the statuette back on her windowsill. Spitfire sat in front of her, giving her caller a strangely angled view of her disheveled and halfway upside-down countenance.

“Professor Sycamore! Hi! No, I’m fine and mom is fine, too. I’ve been catching up on rest since the blizzard hit and I guess I lost track of time.”  
 _“Ah, c’est correct. I thought as much, since Calem and Shauna have reported they are fine as well, but nothing compares to hearing the truth directly from the source.”_  
“Oh, uh, yeah, definitely!”

With an awkward laugh, she gave a great shove against the floor and tumbled backwards into her bed again. She waved at the Fennekin and hissed, “Spitfire, up here –atta girl~”

The fire fox Pokémon returned to the bed, and she took the Holo Caster from her jaws, giving the huge, tufted ears a scratch. Spitfire had been the brightest of her mother’s litter, and the most eager to please, so she’d stayed while the other kits had been traded away. She was a dedicated assistant and a fair opponent at checkers.

_“I haven’t had word from you for nearly two months,”_ the Professor continued. _“Forgive me, I was worried you had gotten stranded in the wild during that storm.”_ At this, he heaved a sigh of relief. _“It is good to know you and your family are well. But I am afraid I must ask a favor of you.”_  
“A favor?” She was alert and focused in an instant.  
 _“Oui. I am afraid the capital has been snowed in. Her citizens can move about the city herself, but access to any of the surrounding routes is blocked. We are mobilizing search parties for those who have not returned home along those routes, but we must clear the way for them first.”_  
“Really? Normally Lumiose doesn’t get that much snow…”

She got off her bed and brushed the drapes aside. Snow piled nearly two feet high along the sill, forcing her onto her toes to squint over the shimmering edge into the yard below.

“Wow, it sure did come down… I’d be glad to help, Professor. Give me a chance to get myself together and I’ll Fly right over.”  
 _“Be careful, cheri, there are still pockets of ill weather around the skies, even if they are not shedding their wares. I will wait for you at my lab, yes?”_  
“You got it!”  
 _“Excellent. À bientôt.”_  


The hologram faded and the display on her Holo Caster returned to the current time: 1:44pm. A tiny icon in the corner blinked that she had 4 missed calls. She had no doubt now who they were from. The light was already waning and she’d need time to pack and Fly over, but she remained by the window, her heart thudding loudly.

It had been two months since she had last seen Augustine Sycamore, two months since she’d beaten the League and retreated to follow her own personal quests. Her last visit to Lumiose had been merely a week ago, but she’d dashed into the Pokéball Shop to resupply and flown off again without a word to anyone she knew in the city. It seemed like forever since she’d spoken to her mentor.

Glancing at the Holo Caster, she thumbed through it for the photos app and paused on a shot of them taken right after her championship victory. The medal around her neck was the only tidy or clean thing about her appearance; she looked haggard and sweaty -smears of mud punctuating blisters from errant Electric attacks and her hair frizzed and dampened from being on the wrong side of her Pokémon being Water Pulsed.

He had his arms around her, and was smiling and laughing louder than she. She looked like shit, but she looked happy; victoriously, delusionally happy. And he looked so, so proud of her.

She smiled to herself.

“Alright, Spitfire, we’ve got a mission. Lumiose City needs us to help clear their routes so they can run rescue missions. Can you round up some of our firey teammates?”

A whine and a yip-yip were her reply.

“You’re right, a Psychic or two would be handy.”

A growl-yip and a whimper.

“Uh… I don’t know.” She lifted her arm and gave a sniff. “Yeesh! When _did_ I last shower? Gross!”


	2. Chapter 2

Spitfire was perched on Mother's shoulder and watching as Trainer and Mama prepared for their outing. It was Spitfire's first winter, and the smells of ice and foreign matter blown in by the storm were ripe in the air, even from the warmth of House. She knew that Fridge made ice rocks that were fun to bat around as they became water, and interesting to crunch on, but they had a small scent of _cold_ to them. Nothing at all like the great big scent of _ice_ outside.

“You packed extra warm socks?”  
“Yes mom.”  
“And a filled water-bottle? Just because it’s cold doesn’t mean you won’t dehydrate.”  
“I have two, actually.”  
“As soon as I heard you were leaving, I fed everyone. You should be alright until dinner time, but do try to take breaks, ok, honey? The snow isn’t going anywhere.”

Mother and Trainer shared a chuckle at the ironic truth of that statement. Spitfire tilted her head, considering why snow would go anywhere at all. Looking out the windows, there seemed to be so much of it, the whole world gone white.

_*Mama, is snow alive?*_

Firefly rotated her ears in thought and lightly snorted.

_*No. Snow is very small ice that falls from Sky. It is not alive.*_  
 _*Will you and Trainer eat the snow?*_  
 _*Probably not. I think Trainer means to move the snow from one place to another. Other Trainers are unable to go in and out of the big city because of the snow blocking the way.*_  
 _*Why don’t those Trainers use their Pokémon?*_  
 _*There are many, many kinds of Pokémon. Some are weak to the cold, or too small, or they don’t have Fire.*_  
 _*Like Ember! I can do it!*_

Spitfire hiccupped and a flicker of flame coughed up her throat. She liked the feel of it tickling her teeth. Mama came closer to nuzzle her.

_*Only Ember outside. Mother will be angry if you burn something. House is very important, so it must be kept safe.*_  
 _*I will!*_

Spitfire licked her Mama’s snout. The elder fire-fox returned to their Trainer to assume command of the Pokémon she was bringing along. Spitfire knew it was important for Trainer’s Pokémon to be friends and work together to help Trainer, but Mama was Trainer’s _Alpha_. Mama had been Trainer’s very first Pokémon and all the Pokémon Trainer caught after would listen to Mama and do what she said.

“Dizzy Twister, you’ll Fly us over to Lumiose, but before we land, I want to take a look around the city from the air to get an idea of what we’re up against.”

Dizzy, a sleek Talonflame, cooed her acknowledgment and stretched her wings.

_*Dizzy?*_  
The bird tilted her head restlessly in the way birds did, but gave Spitfire her attention.  
 _*Is flying fun?*_  
 _*Flying is the best, of course. One day I will pick you up and show you.*_

Spitfire’s ears perked and her tail fluffed with anticipation.

“After we land, Pinkie, I want you to go to the Poké-Center nearby and see if Joy needs any help. If not, you’ll stay with me as my relay.”  
 _*Yes, Trainer! I would love to help!*_ The Sylveon purred.  
“Otherwise, Firefly, Twiley; you guys are with me to clear the snow.”  
 _*Snow, you say? How dreadful…*_ The Meowstic, Twiley, shivered at the thought. Like most cats, she wasn’t keen on cold or wet weather.

“Blueblood, you’ll help Twi and ‘Fly. If you find anyone in the snow, keep them warm until help arrives to move them. Can you do that?”

The timid Charmander hid his face against Trainer’s boot and clutched his tail protectively.

 _*Flame up!*_ Cheered Spitfire. _*Trainer is giving you a Task. You can do it, Blueblood!*_  
 _*I don’t like strange humans,*_ Blueblood whimpered. _*I would rather stay by Trainer and protect her…*_  
 _*That is my Task,*_ Pinkie reminded him. _*You must do as Trainer says. She is kind. She loves us. You will be safe.*_  
 _*You will stay with us and learn. You will become brave and strong.*_ Firefly gave a faint, comforting growl.  
 _*Everyone, you know your Task. Work hard and make Trainer proud. Return to Trainer if you feel weak. There is no shame in it.*_

“Everyone know their role? Great. I’ll see you when we land. Return!” The handful of Pokéballs in Trainer’s hand were tapped and everyone was Returned.

_*Protect Mother and House. That is your Task, Spitfire!*_  
 _*Yes, Mama!*_ Spitfire barked and strained forward, watching her Mama go inside the Pokéball.

 

 

Crouched on Dizzy Twister’s back, she watched the kilometers swiftly flow under them. The blinding white seemed endless, interjected with the odd cluster of buildings, trees, or mountains too tall to bury. Santalune Forest was serenely quiet, only a pair of Fletchlings tweeting and gazing up at the Talonflame as she soared past. A command murmured to her Pokémon had them circle lower, just shy of the tallest treetops, and she called out:

“Is anyone down there? Hello? Is anyone in the forest?”

The call repeated without answer as they continued north towards Santalune City. She spotted no signs of human life –no tracks, tents, or fires- and elected to carry on. Perhaps anyone unlucky enough to be in the forest when the storm had begun had had enough tree cover to make it out before the snows became too deep. They were likely taking refuge in Santalune City, she decided, gazing down at the city’s snow-topped roofs. A call turned her gaze, and she smiled and waved at the Nurse Joy that worked in Santalune City. She was directing her own bevy of Pokémon to knock the snow off the Poké-Center’s roof. Dizzy Twister banked and lightly landed in the open roadway.

“Hi, how are you holding up?” Joy greeted her.  
“Well enough. I passed the forest on my way up here, but I didn’t see anyone. Is everyone in Santalune ok?”  
“Oh, we’re holding up fine, dear, thank you.”

Joy paused as another sheet of snow crashed noisily off the roof into the alley nearby. 

“We did have some stragglers run in to town a few hours after the blizzard began, but they haven’t put out a missing persons report for anyone, and no one in Aquacorde has heard anything, so we think everyone is safe and accounted for.” She sniffled. “And how are you? Vaniville is far more rural, isn’t it?”  
“Been hibernating, mostly. Everything has been shut down in Vaniville since the storm hit, and I figure it might stay that way until they clear up the snow, but I don’t think anyone minds the break!”  
They shared a chuckle at that.  
“Got a call from the Professor to help out with the clearing operation in Lumiose. Their roads are so badly snowed in, no one can get in or out of the city.”

Hands were brought to her mouth and hot breath was blown on them to thaw her fingers.

“Ah, well, we are thankfully not in such dire straights, but, well… If I could make a request of you, since you’re going that way?”  
“Sure, what is it?”  
“Nothing heavy, just a small parcel. My niece at the hotel will know who it’s for.” Joy rubbed her hands briskly before tucking them back in her coat pockets. “Just two more minutes and the roof will be clear, and then I’ll run in to fetch that parcel for you.”

While she waited, she dismounted her Talonflame and dug out a water bottle.

“Thirsty?”  
Dizzy Twister bobbed her head and scooped up a beakful of snow, releasing an Ember to melt it and swallowing the water. She shook herself and fluffed her plumage, quite pleased with herself.  
“Clever girl. You’ve got that one covered, I see,” her Trainer chuckled. The water bottle was sipped at and then recapped and bagged again.

Joy returned to them a few minutes later, a brown paper-wrapped parcel tucked under her arm.

“Here it is. It’s for Mireille at the Richissime Hotel. She’s usually at the reception desk.”  
“Got it.”

The parcel was securely placed inside her bag and she mounted her bird again.

“Thank you, and safe travels.”  
“No worries. Seeya, Nurse Joy!”

 

 

The light was turning rich gold as Lumiose drew ever closer and the sun sank lower still. The countryside below was still and picturesque. It was rather beautiful, despite the cold. There were hardly any clouds over the city of lights; most had already drifted further inland. Squinting behind her sunglasses, she could almost make out the blizzards taking the mountainous side of Kalos. Nature sure had a wild beauty to her.

“Dizzy, bank right. I want to have a look at the roads going East.”

Route 13 would need clearing if only so the staff at the power plant could make emergency trips to the city. Route 4 was slightly to her right, and seemed none too worse for wear. As they approached Route 16, the many lakes and rivers popular for fishers and sight-seers alike glistened like jewels dropped on white velvet. The fishing docks were barren for once, yet just a few kilometers out of Lumiose, she spied a camp. There were two people moving around, and a fire flickering, so she opted to keep aloft and tell the Lumiose rescuers of her find instead. If nutty people wanted to camp in the snowbanks, who was she to stop them?

Banking left towards Route 14, she was surprised to see steam rising from the swampland, but the four kilometers of road between the swamp gates and the city were heavily snowed over. They followed Route 5 down into the Lumiose valley, the coastal winds at their backs, allowing Dizzy Twister to glide for long stretches. Coasting low and on the lookout for the hotel, she spotted the Pokémon Research Labs, and one lone figure standing on the stairway, cigarette in hand. If it weren’t for the darkness of his hair, she would have lost him in his white lab coat on a background of white.

Dizzy cawed softly so as not to give them away.  
“What? I wasn’t staring.”  
A distinctly snide chirp begged to differ.  
“Shush, you. Just keep Flying.”  
Dizzy’s cawing sounded too much like laughter.

The road outside the hotel was clear and dotted with the claw prints of a dozen other bird Pokémon as an impromptu landing pad. With a word of thanks to her Pokémon, she recalled the bird and trotted into the hotel, grateful to be indoors and warm again.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle la championne,” greeted the old bellhop as he held the door for her. “And how are we this afternoon?”

“Quite cold, Laurence, but happy to be inside. How are you, monsieur?”  
“No matter the season, I merely persevere.” His wry smile was warm and good-humored. “Ah, but you are here for business, oui?”  
“I’m looking for Mireille. Is she working today?”  
“Oui, just over at the réception. May I have your coat?”  
“Sorry, it’s just a quick visit. Thanks, Laurence!”  
“Mon plaisir, mademoiselle.”

Mireille was the red-haired woman not much older than herself behind the desk. She smiled pleasantly when she was approached.

“Welcome to the Lumiose City Richissime hotel. Do you have a reservation?”  
“Actually, I’m here with a package from the Nurse Joy in Santalune City. You’re her niece, Mireille, right?” A pointed glance at the nametag pinned to the redhead’s vest.  
“Oh, why, yes. She did say she was going to mail me something but I guess the storm canceled the mail.”

The slim package was extricated from her bag and handed over. Mireille looked pleased.

“Thanks! I can’t believe she sent you all the way just for that.”  
“It was on my way. I was coming here to help with the cleanup.”  
“Why didn’t you say so? I’ll book you in right now!”  
“Huh?”

“All the out-of-towners helping clear the city are offered free boarding at the hotel, so as to give the Poké-Center a break from the half-frozen survivors coming in.” She leaned closer and added in a whisper; “And because it’s you, I can even throw in room service on the house.”  
“Wow, um, that’s terribly nice of you. I’m not sure I’ll be staying the night, though.”  
“Nonsense. Take a break here and Fly home in the morning. You’re bound to be exhausted after your work, and besides, it’ll be too dark. The weather’s clearing up, but that means it’ll only get colder.”  
“I guess that makes sense… Alright, you twisted my arm!”

The young women laughed and Mireille quickly booked her room and activated her key card.

“Here you are. It’s room 304, a corner unit with a great view. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”  
“Thanks a bunch, Mireille.”  
“No problem, take care.”


	3. Chapter 3

After being up high over the countryside, being groundside in the huge metropolitan city felt much warmer. The tall buildings helped cut the wind, and the unending lights and bustle warmed the temperature considerably. Looking down, the cobblestones were merely wet, and only small piles of snow clung desperately to the edges of buildings and in dim alleys. Walking through the streets in the direction of the Labs, she concocted and rehearsed several greetings and how they might play out. As she rounded a corner and the Lab façade came into view, her mental script shredded and tumbled apart, reforming as timid butterflies in her belly.

She had set out two years ago with a troupe of four unlikely friends to learn all there was to know about Pokémon. She’d been sixteen then, shy and awkward as the new girl in town, and with school not going back into session for another month, she’d elected to keep to the house, to what little was familiar and welcome. These Kalosians were alien to her; so touchy-feely, so obsessed with food, and so very eccentric. So different from her home a thousand kilometers away.

Until a lottery had been announced, or rather the aftermath of it. Her mother had gone behind her back to enter her, a well-meant effort to get her out of the house and intermingling with kids her own age. The lottery selected five high-school children from around Kalos to meet with the famed Professor Sycamore and engage in a mission to study, battle, and collect Pokémon from all over the country.

When she found out she’d been selected as a winner, she’d sat down and sobbed. It seemed that wretched Kalos was determined to integrate her even if it had to drag her out of her home, kicking and screaming.

Meeting the other four –two of which were strangely enough from her own town- in nearby Aquacorde had been intimidating. They all seemed comfortable with each other, seemed to know loads more about Pokémon than she did, and most importantly, they were all natives. She wasn’t. She didn’t want to hurt their feelings in telling them she didn’t want to be, either; she wanted to go back home, back to her old friends, her old school, her old home where everything made sense and was as familiar as the skin on her body.

Her starter had been Fennekin. The little vixen was aloof but attentive, and her first attempt at fighting a gym battle in Santalune ended in abysmal defeat. Curled up on a sofa in the Poké-Center while Nurse Joy revived and healed her strange new companion, she’d sniffled and whimpered to her mother on her Holo Caster, begged to be allowed back home, to give up this wild Swanna chase before she made a bigger fool of herself.

Her very first visit to Lumiose had been awing. The passers-by were all so very chic and well-groomed. Everyone looked rich and important. Everything was lit up ‘round the clock. The restaurants all served obscenely-priced, strange food and the boutiques were staffed with supermodels that cast unfriendly glances at her when she lingered by their windows too long, gazing up at couture she couldn’t even dream of affording.

Nobody wanted her in Lumiose. She didn’t fit here. She didn’t fit anywhere in Kalos, and she didn’t want to.

Then the Professor behind the lottery called her and the other four kids into his office. She’d seen a mugshot of him on the news now and again, and his name rang a bell, but for all she expected, he would be just as much a cold, arrogant snob as everyone else in Lumiose.

Walking into his lab, the first of the five to arrive, she felt her apprehensions stall, churning the waters of her emotions, unsure where to go. He was tall, nearly a foot taller than she and he was slender –no, _lean_ \- in the way that swimmers were lean. His hair had a far more indigo tint than what the TV displayed, and it formed haphazard curls that he frequently combed back with his hands.

To her surprise, he’d welcomed her warmly; held her hand in both of his and kissed her cheeks the way she’d seen so many of Kalos’ natives do. It had turned the uneasy sea in her heart into a raging hurricane of confused, hormonal turmoil. His hands were so warm, and large enough to dwarf her own petite appendage. Those precious few seconds of first contact engraved themselves in her memory; the warmth, the smoothness of his palms, the way his fingers curled so easily around her hand. He smelled of aftershave, cloves, earth, and Pokémon kibble.

The others arrived seconds later, and the meeting began in earnest.

He was Professor Augustine Sycamore, head of Kalos’ Pokémon studies and one of the youngest in the world to have graduated university with a Masters in Pokémon biology. His pending PhD dissertation was about the little-understood subject of enhanced evolution, coined Mega Evolution. He spoke with passion and conviction, and when errant Pokémon bumped into his legs, he fluidly picked them up and cuddled them without missing a beat. The rhythm of his voice was lilting with a heavy Kalosian accent that said he’d spent just enough time outside the country to learn the common global tongue, but not enough time to break his native accent nor injections of native words.

She’d found herself hanging on to his every syllable.

Leaving Lumiose for the coastal towns, she felt something akin to resolve taking form. It was two parts determination, one part stubbornness, one part curiosity, and it was fueled with what she would come to realize was immature lust. That heady combination was a force to be reckoned with as she and her Fennekin –now affectionately called Firefly- recruited more Pokémon to their team, plowed through Team Flare idiots, and flattened every wandering challenger to cross her path. Gyms were an endurance test, and as she racked up her badges, she found herself returning to Lumiose.

His smile when she stepped into his office for the second time during her journey was genuine and relieved, belying the worry he’d stoked in her absence. From there on it became a habit for him to inquire as to her Pokédex and she to blush and hand it over, murmuring excuses for the absence he expected of her. She found herself craving any little bit of time spent in his presence. His Holo Caster calls were like surprise gifts.

After the final defeat of Team Flare, he’d found her among the wreckage and swooped in to wrap his arms around her. Her team lay fainted at her feet and her legs gave in to their fatigue as soon as he held her, safe and supported. There had been no words. She had simply cried against his shoulder, soaking his ever-present lab coat through. To date, even trying to find words to describe her feelings of that day made her throat constrict and her eyes burn. But the warmth of him, the smoky clove scent of his hand-rolled cigarettes forever perfuming his clothes had been all she needed to find her strength and sanity.

“You don’t have to do this anymore. You have more than fulfilled your obligation, cheri. Please.”  
“I don’t want to stop,” she’d protested. “I’m sorry, but… I’m not doing this for you anymore. I need to do this for myself. I need to finish what I started.”

He had been quiet for a while, digesting that. She felt a pressure atop her head and the soft smack of his lips and knew he’d kissed her.

“I know.”

Taking her place on the field of her championship battle, she remembered the clarity and zen that had settled over her, as if Firefly had fired a Calm Mind at her. Looking to the stands where she knew her mother and friends would be, she felt her stomach sink as she counted one less person than she expected. It wasn’t until her first loss and a fifteen-minute time out was called that she came face-to-face with Sycamore again.

He stood in the shadows of the stand’s overhang with a massive bouquet of roses in hand and a sheepish smile.

“The florist was late.”  
“Why…?”  
“I know you will win. That is all.”  
She hung her head.  
“I’ve already lost.”

The flowers rustled as he neared and cupped a hand around the back of her head. His lips touched her forehead.

“Une seule bataille perdue ne sont pas la guerre. Think back on all you have done and tell me you cannot do this, too.” She shook her head. “You are mighty, ma petite flamme. You will do this. You can. You are already ma belle championne, now go and tell them who you are.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was after five by the time she made it to the Labs, and as she caught her breath, she lamented that it was already quite dark. Scuffing her boots on the welcome mat, she let herself in and closed the chill of winter out behind her.

“Professor?”

Barking sounded far off down the hallway, and within seconds, the scrabbling of nails and padded feet gave way to a golden blur dashing straight for her. She braced herself as it collided with her knees, panting and head-butting her happily.

“Well hello to you, too, buddy~” She scratched the Jolteon’s ears, smoothing the frazzled fur gone sharp with excitement. The electric dog whined and wagged its stump of a tail. “Where’s the Professor, eh? Show me, boy. Show me the Professor.”

“I am right here.”

She looked up and sure enough, Augustine Sycamore was coming down the hallway in the wake of his excitable companion. The Jolteon took advantage of her moment of inattention to lick her jaw, his cold, wet nose making her startle.

“Away with you, Pomme, you old ladies’ man,” The man chuckled, waving a gesture at the Jolteon. “À votre lit, mon fils.”

Pomme whined and reluctantly retreated. A repeat of the command had him turn tail and trot back down the hall to disappear into a room. When he was out of sight, Augustine offered her a hand up.

“Is that really Pomme? When did you evolve him?” She dusted her rear off and made no move to break contact with him.  
“Not a month ago. He decided for himself, that clever boy.” He sighed and looked her over. “Bon, you are here. Are you well?”  
“I’m ok. Sorry I’m late. I checked over Santalune on my way to be sure no one was stuck. Nurse Joy had me deliver something for her just before I got here. Oh, and I did a fly-over of the routes. Route 15 has someone camping between the city and the swamp. They looked like they had everything under control, though.”  
“Good, very good. Ah, are you returning home ce soir? It is already dark…”  
“Probably not. The hotel put me up. It’s getting colder out there.”

He let go of her hand and reached up to comb his hair back. For an instant he seemed put off, though she couldn’t fathom why and was afraid to ask.

“This is true. En tout cas, it is most important that we get even one route cleared tonight. The Power Plant cannot remain isolated.”  
“I agree. It was a pain to repair it the last time, without snow in the way.” She looked around, just then noticing how unusually quiet it was. “Where is everyone?”  
“Ah, I only asked but a few to come in and help tend the Pokémon for a time.”

The fact that he lived just upstairs meant his commute was negligible, but still; Pokémon needed food, cleaning, and interaction regardless of the weather.

“Well, um... Shall we? Outside the city, it’s much colder. The quicker we clear a path, the better for everyone, right?” That got her a wry smile.  
“Your initiative always impresses me. I will dress and let the policiers know that we are helping.”

It took a few minutes before they left the Labs and were hailing a cab to get them to the Route 15 gate faster. Nestled inside the warmth of the car, she found her gaze stalling on Augustine’s profile as he gave the cabbie their directions. His clothes looked simple and chic, and as rumpled as ever. The light shifting as the cab took off caught on his features, highlighting the fullness of his lips, his straight, almost Roman nose, and fan of dark, long lashes. _The mascara companies would weep if they ever laid eyes on his lashes,_ she thought.

When his gaze shifted towards her, she abruptly tilted her head to glance out the front windows and prayed he didn’t let on that she’d been staring. She gnawed at her lower lip, watching cafes and shops pass.

“We may need to continue our efforts tomorrow,” he told her, watching her gaze timidly slide back to him.  
“Oh? Oh, yeah, I guess since it’s dark already…”  
“When we are done, allow me to escort you to dinner as my gratitude for your help.”  
“D-dinner? But everything is so expensive and no way, I couldn’t just-”

He smiled faintly at her fluster and pulled out the ace she could never escape.

“I believe your Pokédex has things to tell me?”  
“No it doesn’t! Not at all!”

She crossed her arms. What an uncommonly sly choice of words, and such a simple delivery. Damn him for knowing just how to push her buttons; she enjoyed his critique on her reconnaissance in the field, and she suspected he knew as much.

“Besides, I have nothing to wear.”

It was a true, if feeble excuse. She hoped he’d buy it. She hoped even more that he wouldn’t. Her efforts to turn down the offer earned her a chuckle, the sound of it smooth as caramel.

“Cheri, you are la championne. The propriétaires would crawl on their bellies to have your visit, either in couture or mud. Seven-thirty, lendemain soir?”  
“I… fine,” she agreed, her shoulders sagging in defeat. He was not taking no for an answer. Part of her wanted to quietly squeal with glee. “Thank you,” she added gently as an afterthought.  
“Non, merci à toi. Oh, we have arrived!”

 

 

The street was damp under Pinkie’s paws as she galloped towards the Pokémon Center in the middle of Big City. The city had three Centers, she knew, and the first two had declared that they were managing just fine. Trainer had sent her to verify with the third Center to be sure. Trainer was back at the Route with Professor, directing their Pokémon to remove the snow so more Trainers could come and go.

The Sylveon slowed as she neared the automated doorway of the third Lumiose Poké-Center and waited for the glass to part and let her through. Plenty of accidents prior to her evolution had taught her that glass doors usually opened by themselves, provided you didn’t run face-first into them.

Trotting over the threshold, she looked about and sniffed. Nurse always had a Pokémon on hand that would mediate between Nurse, Trainer, and other Pokémon.

_*Hello, friend. Are you in need of care?*_

Pinkie’s ears swiveled and she spotted a Togetic wearing a collar with a red + on it. She approached it.

 

 _*I am Pinkie. Trainer sent me to find out if Nurse needs any help.*_ He smiled.  
 _*Welcome, I am Bise. Wait here and I will ask.*_

Bise floated higher and lightly darted off to seek Nurse behind the counter. Pinkie sat her haunches down to wait and turned her head to lick her shoulder.

Trainer worried her somewhat; she had seemed nervous and excited when she had Released Pinkie. Her scent was odd, as well.

Lifting a paw, she began to lick it and gaze around the lobby of the Center.

Was Trainer unwell, she wondered. The last time she had gotten ill, she had smelled strongly of sickness, but this time was different. Professor smelled the same way. Perhaps it was a new artificial smell? Humans liked to bathe themselves in false smells all the time –Trainer said it had something to do with Fashion. Pinkie couldn’t fathom why; it was largely duplicitous to mask one’s smell, she had been told by many a wild Pokémon Trainer had caught. But humans had different customs than Pokémon, so perhaps it was a good thing to them, after all. Perhaps when a male and female smelled the same way, it meant they were compatible?

She put her paw down as Bise returned. In his arms, he carried several small packets.

_*Nurse has no need for help, but she is worried for your Trainer. She asks that you bring this to your Trainer.*_  
 _*What are they?*_  
 _*Small portions of Potion and Ice Heal. Nurse is worried your Team will feel the cold too much at night.*_

Pinkie stood and took the packets in her teeth.

_*I think Trainer will like this gift. Thank Nurse for us!*_  
 _*Of course. I hope to see you again, Pinkie.*_  
 _*I will try to visit again!*_

With that, Pinkie trotted towards the doors and when she was let through, darted off down the bright streets. The Big City was always rife with interesting sounds and smells, but she had a Task and she was loyal to it. She did not pause to investigate the distractions, even when other Pokémon called a friendly greeting.

The attendant at the Gate cooed and gave her a PokéPuff in exchange for a scratch to her ear and then let her through to the Route on the other side. Pinkie liked her.

Trainer was further ahead than when Pinkie had last been with her. Pinkie was pleased for Trainer’s progress at her Task. The snow made her paws skid slightly, so she trotted along the cleared path until she reached the group. She rubbed against Trainer’s leg and felt a hand pat her on the head.

“Back already, Pinkie? And you brought something? Let’s have it.”

The packets were taken and Trainer sounded pleased as she examined them. Pinkie purred and she felt arms encircle and lift her slightly as Trainer hugged her.

“Super job, Pinks! Good girl~ Are you cold?”  
 _*I am alright,*_ the Sylveon mewed. _*I will keep watch over you and Professor, now.*_

_*Are those from the Poké-Center?*_

Pinkie glanced at Miel crouched nearby. The Bulbasaur was shivering and frost laced his leaves and bud. The Sylveon squirmed free of her beloved Trainer and went to curl herself around the chilled amphibian. Grass Pokémon generally were not fond of cold, but Miel would not back down from his Task just yet.

_*Thank you, friend. The cold makes me slow.*_  
 _*That is alright,*_ Pinkie soothed. _*Take rest. Your brother and sisters are working hard.*_  
 _*Yes, as are your brother and sisters and our Trainers.*_  
 _*Miel, do you suppose it means something good when two humans smell the same?*_ Pinkie asked.  
 _*I suppose…*_ Miel sniffed the air. _*Do you mean Professor and your Trainer?*_  
 _*Yes. Your nose can smell better than mine. What do you think?*_

Miel sniffed again and grunted.

 _*It is a curious smell,*_ he finally admitted. _*I do not know much about female humans. But I know this smell previously on Professor.*_  
 _*What does it mean?*_  
 _*It is…*_ Miel paused and tried to think of the correct turn of phrase. He nosed at the hard-packed snow on the ground as he thought. _*Desire for contact. It is usually accompanied with love-things, like hugs and compliments and kisses… I think.*_  
 _*That sounds wonderful! I like it when Trainer hugs and kisses me on the head. I am sure Trainer would like it if Professor did those things to her!*_  
 _*There is one other strange smell.*_ Miel sniffed again to be sure. _*I smell fear from both of them. This is the first time I have smelled fear on Professor with this other desire-smell.*_

Pinkie’s ears sank with disappointment.

_*That is not good. Fear causes Attack and running away.*_  
 _*Would Trainer Attack Professor?*_  
 _*I don’t know… She is protective of Mother and of us. She is protective of Firefly’s kit, too, and her other Pokémon.*_

Pinkie gazed at Trainer, then at Professor, her sky-blue eyes trying to make sense of the humans in their midst.

_*I saw her become very angry with Team Flare. She made us defeat their Pokémon and threaten Team Flare. But they were hurting Pokémon, and I have never seen Trainer be angry with other good Trainers. I do not think Trainer would hurt Professor, because Professor is very kind to Pokémon.*_

Miel nodded his head and rose to his feet.

_*That is good. Perhaps our humans will remain friends after all. I will return to my Task now. Thank you for the comfort.*_  
 _*You’re welcome. Thank you for your nose.*_

 

 

The instant she shut the hotel room door, she began to strip. Her clothes formed a trail towards the closed bathroom door where she turned knobs and rustled shower curtain and waited for the hot water to come forth. She dug through her bag on the bathroom countertop to retrieve her hairbrush, a clean change of underclothes, and something to sleep in. Her hair was matted with sweat and tangles, bits of it still frozen, and she winced every time the brush caught a particularly terrible snag.

It was after nine and she was exhausted and chilled to the bone, but they had managed to clear the way from Gate 15 all the way to the Power Plant. No survivors had been found, but it had been a mixed blessing. A badly-frostbitten Flabébé had been dug up and had passed away within minutes of exposure, despite their best efforts to shield it from the wind and spray Potion after Potion upon its tiny fey-like body.

It had simply been beyond saving, Augustine had murmured sadly, and torn off the end of his scarf to shroud it when they buried it properly.

Standing under the hot spray of the shower made her cold-singed extremities burn and her burning muscles relax. She wondered what a Flabébé had been doing in such a wasteland and suspected that one Trainer or another had released the poor thing in the desert prior to the storm, washing their hands of its care and wellbeing. She hoped she never met that Trainer.

In an effort to avoid tears, she tried to think of happier things. It was good to be warm again; it was good to feel clean again. She wondered if Augustine was at home, in his own shower trying to get warm again… with his deep indigo hair slicked back… those gorgeous, plush lips parted just so, and the water sending rivulets down that sculpted swimmer’s body…

The bathroom echoed with her exclaimed curse; a glob of frothy shampoo had fallen across her left eye.

Frantically she tilted her face into the spray and decided her mind was far too tired to be paying attention to important things, like agony-free bathing. _This is no time for further distractions,_ she told herself. Best to just wash up, order room service and feed her team while her hair dried. After she ate, she would go straight to bed. Her aching everything demanded it.

After setting down her Pokémon’s meals in the complimentary feed bowls provided beside the in-room coffee maker, she sat at the vanity and pulled out her Holo Caster to call her mother. As the call attempted to connect, she toweled her hair and gazed at her reflection in the vanity mirror.

Her figure was good. Her skin wanted for some spa-level pampering, and her eyebrows, frankly, had looked better. Her roots were starting to show, reminding her it had been quite a number of weeks since her last salon visit.

And she was going to dinner with Augustine Sycamore tomorrow night. She had nothing to wear, no makeup, no jewelry, and he had indirectly complimented her in saying she could wear mud for all it mattered.

She was the Champion of Kalos. She was a celebrity and a force to be reckoned with. Boutiques wanted her to spokesmodel for them, restaurants wanted her patronage, and Trainers everywhere wanted a private lesson, hoping her skill would somehow transfer over to them. Leaders of cities and cops and the Prince of Kalos himself had bowed to her.

But as her mother picked up the call and began to talk, she felt a sense of displacement and un-belonging.

Again.


	5. Chapter 5

Firefly took a breath and blew against her hallowed branch, unleashing yet another Fireblast that was magnified by the branch and melted several square meters of snow around her. Ahead of her, Professor’s Garchomp, Galette, was Bulldozing a path along the center of the Route to allow her passage. The snow had settled and become dense and heavy, but they had managed to clear two more routes that morning. The fourth had had Teams from Dendemille working to clear Route 16.

Perched on Galette’s head was Twiley, safe from contact with the snow, and on Galette’s heels were Blueblood, and Chaleur, Professor’s own Charmeleon and Blueblood’s Mama. The Charmeleon and her hatchling were using smaller bursts of fire to reinforce the walls of the Bulldozed path from collapsing by melting the snow into a more durable sheet of ice. Twiley was using her Psychic to probe ahead of Galette for obstructions, frozen Pokémon, or anything else that might be damaged by their rigorous operation.

Yesterday’s episode with the dying Flabébé had given Trainer much grief; Firefly wished she’d known Sleep to ease her partner’s mind and let her rest peacefully instead of weeping through her dreams.

 _*I sense a living thing ahead!*_ mewled Twiley, putting an immediate pause to the operation.  
 _*I’m on it!*_

Chaleur boldly dove headfirst into the snow and began to Dig her way forward. In her wake, small holes began to melt into the snow where her flaming tail lingered. Blueblood tried to peer around Galette.

_*Twiley, do you think it’s a person or a Pokémon?*_  
 _*It is small, and it is not replying to my call, so it may be human,*_ the Meowstic replied.

Few Pokémon were able to communicate in the human tongue, and most of them were Psychics that relied on telekinesis instead of human words to communicate ideas. Good, attentive Trainers could eventually understand their own Pokémon, but it took much time and effort.

_*If it is a Pokémon, it may be fainted, or…*_

Firefly braced herself for another disappointing discovery and glanced back at Trainer.

 _*Chaleur found it,*_ Galette stated. _*She is melting the snow.*_  
 _*Galette, can you bring Blueblood around? More heat is needed right away!*_ Chaleur’s voice sounded muffled.  
 _*Hold on tight, little one,*_ Galette advised as she set her claw down to allow Blueblood to climb on.  
 _*I’m coming, Mama!*_ Blueblood clutched both paws tightly around Galette's claw and braced his tail for balance as they left the ground.

 _*What have you found, Chaleur?*_ Firefly called forward, hoping the need for heat meant whatever it was, was still clinging to life.

 _*It is a Pokémon!*_ Twiley exclaimed. _*It still lives! Call Trainer, call Professor!*_

Firefly relayed the call back towards Pinkie and Professor’s Wartortle, Courant, to alert the humans. Her ears strained backwards towards the sounds of her team, eagerly awaiting their next update, but her gaze was on Trainer. Pinkie startled and ran to Trainer to tug her sleeve; Courant head-butted Professor’s leg. Trainer was much quicker thanks to her travels, Firefly noted with pride, and she was already charging ahead through the snow, her legs buried to the thighs and her arms flailing to keep balance. As she neared Firefly’s position, Firefly reached out to catch her and help her forward.

“Professor, they found a survivor!” Trainer shouted towards Professor, the male struggling to follow her tracks.

Firefly reminded the Team to maintain their positions and help the humans move about. Trainer threw herself into the snow near the two fire lizards. As Professor approached, Firefly extended him the same courtesy of a helping paw.

Crouched in the melted snow caused by the Char family, she dug out an Ice Heal and a Potion from her bag. Her hands were shaking with adrenaline. With the Potion in hand, she lifted Chaleur’s paw off the body sandwiched between Blueblood and herself and sprayed and sprayed until the medicine absorbed and the applicator was clicking empty. She threw it aside and began spraying the Ice Heal as Augustine crouched beside her, careful not to kick up snow near them with his longer legs.

“What have they uncovered?” He sounded breathless.  
“I’m not sure yet,” she grit her teeth, feeling her stomach flutter horridly. “I don’t care, I’m not letting this one go.”

The Ice Heal clicked empty and was tossed aside. The seconds ticked by as they waited for the medicines to take effect, for the warmth of the two Fire Pokémon to thaw the mystery survivor. Finally, there came a weak cry and movement, and Blueblood withdrew, revealing a blue-tinged white face obscured by a helmet of frosted green. She made a hopeful sound and leaned very close, placing her ear near the open mouth.

It was breathing.

“A Ralts? Pauvre petit,” remarked Augustine, already stripping out of his coat. “It must be taken to a Poké-Center immediately.”  
“It’s breathing,” she reported and placed her hand near its throat. “But its pulse feels very weak-” She glanced back at him and nearly bit her tongue. “What are you doing?!”

Augustine pulled his sweater over his head, rumpling the t-shirt below and accidentally flashing more skin than she’d ever hoped to see. She leaned aside as he imposed, nearly smothering her as he reached for the Ralts and wrapped the still-warm garment around it. Chaleur moved her tail aside and aided tucking in the Ralts warmly and securely. She growled comfortingly to the Ralts as it was taken from the snow. Blueblood scampered onto his Trainer’s shoulder.

Firefly watched the humans rise and retrace their steps out of the snow to the clearing behind them, moving carefully and slowly, a bundle held close in Professor’s arms. An enquiry of her Team told her they had uncovered a Ralts, frostbitten and barely clinging to life. While they had investigated their find, Pinkie had anxiously darted back and forth along the trail they had initially forged, trampling the snow and making retreat that much easier. Firefly guided them again, tipping her ears back as Trainer barked at Professor.

“Put your coat back on! Professor!! You’re not helping anyone by getting sick!”  
“I will run to the Poké-Center and be back in no time, cheri.”  
“No, I’m faster,” she argued, already digging through her bag for her skate attachments.  
“I am already holding him and he is not improving –Merde cette neige gênant!”  
“You need to direct the team. You’re better at prepping survivors. AUGUSTINE SYCAMORE, STOP RIGHT THERE AND LISTEN TO ME!”

All the Pokémon in the vicinity stopped and stared. Courant’s, Pinkie’s and Firefly’s ears flattened.

She caught up to Augustine, hopping on one foot as she clipped the second of her skate attachments on and then dug her toes into the hardpacked snow underfoot.

“You’re going to give me that Ralts because I’m faster than you on foot and twice as fast on skates,” she growled through clenched teeth. “And then you’re going to put your damn coat back on and continue the operation as planned, and if you get sick, I’m going to smack you because you deserve it!”

Augustine’s breath puffed in the air. He stared at the Champion he had unintentionally created out of a timid, lost girl transplanted against her will to Kalos two years ago. Staring at her now, at the fire in her eyes, he never would have guessed that girl was the one standing before him.

“Fine, I leave it to you,” he relented. “I do not wish to fight with you, ma cocotte, please, just hurry.”

That abated some of her fury and she closed the distance between them to collect the bundle in his arms. Blueblood slipped off her shoulder to cuddle the Ralts again, dedicated to his Task of keeping survivors warm.

She said nothing more as she turned and began to skate towards Lumiose. Her breath puffed in great white clouds as she raced the clock, praying the Pokémon in her arms would pull through. She knew it was nature’s will that some lived while others died, but she could still save this one, _would_ still save him.

The city was a blur as she raced through the pedestrians and dodged transport and Skiddos recklessly, driven by her singleminded goal.

“Emergency!!” She shouted as she burst through the Poké-Center’s doors, frightening patrons inside and causing them to scatter. “I need a Nurse right away, it’s life or death! Emergency!”

She slammed to a halt at the reception desk, panting. A Nurse was already running to meet her.

“It’s a Ralts,” she gasped. “We found it in the middle of Route 5. Pulse is very weak and it has frostbite.”  
“Come around.”

The Nurse moved to one side and lifted a hinged panel in the countertop. Blueblood whimpered as they hustled after the Nurse into a backroom.

“Lay it down here,” the Nurse directed, gesturing to a basin bolted to the counter. It had a raised, cushioned bottom and a drain. “Did you attempt to treat it?”  
“One Potion and one Ice Heal,” she answered. “I’ve never found a Pokémon in this state until yesterday. I found a Flabébé on Route 15 but it didn’t belong there and I think a Trainer released it there and then the snow must have come a-and it- It didn’t-”

The Ralts was extricated from Augustine’s sweater and gently set in the basin. The Nurse donned a stethoscope and cocked her wrist to regard her wrist watch as she counted heartbeats. After a moment she set the stethoscope aside and pressed a latch on the edge of the basin, blocking the drain. A knob was turned and water burbled forth from under the cushioning. As the water began to fill the basin, the Nurse turned to her.

“You must not blame yourself, it will only damage your spirit. I have no doubt you did all you could for it, as you did for this little one.” A comforting smile and a hand reached out to rub her shoulder. “I will do everything I can to help Ralts recover, but it will take some time. There is no quick and easy cure for hypothermia. If the frostbite has set in too far, amputation might be necessary.”

“Oh no…” A whimper and her breath shuddered at that as tears flooded her eyes. Her gaze shifted to the unmoving white body in the water.

“There is one positive aspect to be acknowledged, though.”  
Her gaze returned to the Nurse.  
“You have saved Ralts’ life. Because of your quick administration, I am certain he will live. That is more than he would have gotten otherwise.”

 

 

The Nurse’s words were small comfort as she returned to the lobby to wait. She gnawed at her lower lip and bundled Augustine’s sweater in her arms. It smelled like him, and the scent turned her thoughts to other issues; she had raised her voice to him. It was the first time she had ever argued with him so viciously and she felt a knot tightening in her belly the more she thought about it.

“Hey, why so down?”

Her gaze lifted and she found Mireille from the Richissime hotel standing before her.

“Mireille, sorry. I guess I didn’t see you.”  
“No worries. But what’s the matter? You’re sitting there like someone stole your last Revive.”  
“It’s… kind of complicated.”  
“I’m not doing anything. Today’s my day off. Why don’t you come and have a hot drink and talk a little, hm? Come now, whatever it is, moping in the Poké-Center won’t cure it.”

They left the Poké-Center and relocated to a nearby café. The scent of coffee and hot milk gave the place a cozy, homey atmosphere. Lattes were ordered and Mireille gave her a look.

“Now. Tell me what’s got you looking so down? Maybe I can help.”

She stared at Mireille, stumped by the other woman’s friendliness. She opened her mouth, but nothing came forth. Her gaze settled on the table and after a thoughtful moment, she tried again, and the words did come. The more she said, the more wanted to be said, and before she knew it, she was spilling the past few days’ worth of activity, her fears and hopes and concerns. At some point their coffee arrived, each saucer laden with a tiny spoon and a chunk of biscotti.

“Well, that certainly is a bit complicated,” Mireille admitted when she concluded her tirade. “First thing’s first. The Ralts. You did everything you could for it, and as frustrating as it may be, there is nothing more you can do now. But I have a really good feeling about it from what you said. I just know it will pull through.”

“I really hope so.”

“As for yelling at the Professor, I can say you’re not the first and likely won’t be the last.” That was said with a playful smile. “He’s a grown man. He can take it. Especially if it’s from you.”

That made her choke on her drink and as she coughed, she hastily put the bowl-cup back in its saucer and reached for a napkin to clean the milk foam off her nose.

“Me?” she squeaked, eyes watering as she coughed into her napkin and tried to regain her breathing.  
“Mais oui! Why else would he ask you to dinner?” Mireille handed her another napkin. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but after you won the championship, your faces were plastered in every publication for weeks. In particular, one telling photograph of the two of you under the stands, he with roses…? Ring a bell?”

She felt heat begin to sear her cheeks. She knew exactly the photo. _“You are mighty, ma petite flamme.”_

“It was the talk of Lumiose for weeks. Le professeur et son prodige! You two would make a hell of a couple if even one of you stepped up to claim the other.”  
“It’s just dinner!” She exclaimed, startling a few nearby patrons.  
“Oh, alright. Tell yourself that if it makes you happy.”

Mireille smirked behind her coffee bowl and took a sip. The publications made the Champion out to be graceful, strong, and powerful. To her humor, the girl sitting across from her in a tiny café in South Lumiose was ungainly, frail, and embarrassed. She was merely human.

“I do want him to like me,” came the meek confession. Mireille set her coffee down and picked up her biscotti.  
“I am certain that should not be a difficult goal to surmount,” the red-haired hotelier said gently. “What time will he collect you?”  
“Seven-thirty.”

Mireille looked at her watch and took a bite of her treat. She frowned.

“Does he expect you to return? It is already after three.”  
“Shoot, I knew I should have called him. I’m sorry, I’ll just-”  
“Stay, stay. I’ll be right back.”

When Mireille retreated to give her semblance of privacy, she drew up Augustine’s number on her Holo Caster and hit _call_. It took less rings than she expected before he picked up.

_“Oui, I am wearing my coat again.”_

That gave her reason to snort back a hint of laughter.

“Ralts is undergoing treatment for hypothermia. The Nurse said he will survive, but if the frostbite is too bad, he may need amputation.”

Augustine heaved a sigh of relief and raked a hand through his hair.

 _“Grâce au ciel,”_ he muttered. _“Bon, that is excellent news, cheri. I am glad you got him to the Poké-Center in time.”_  
“I’m staying nearby until he’s stabilized,” she stated hesitantly. “Unless you need me at the site?”  
 _“We have cleared three full routes and Dendemille have taken care of their own... Route 5 is nearly complete... Non, rester là. We will finish here soon enough.”_

His holo-projection glanced away for a moment, and a smile overcame him as he began to chuckle. She wondered what he was looking at.

 _“En tout cas…”_ His gaze returned to the camera, still smiling. _“Prend une pause, you have worked hard enough. I will see you tonight for our little rendez-vous. Now, I am sorry, but your Pinkie has gotten herself buried in the snow and I must go to help her. À tantôt, ma cocotte.”_

She busied herself with eating her biscotti as she awaited Mireille’s return. _He called me cocotte twice in one hour… That’s good, right?_ She knew she would have to apologize for her earlier outburst, but his niceties were paralyzing.

Mireille returned from her impromptu bathroom break to find her companion lost in thought with a happy little smile on her lips. It made her smile in turn.

“PokéPenny for your thoughts?” Mireille giggled as the girl suddenly realized she was not alone at the table. “Come, finish your coffee and we must go.”  
“Go?”  
“Yes. Your hair wants coloring, you need a new dress-” Shoulders slumped at that.  
“Goof off to get pretty? Come on, Mireille.”

“No, you come on,” Mireille argued. “You may be a celebrity, a hero even, and a pretty girl nonetheless, but to wear such common things? This is important! You are a young woman, and now and then it would please him if you looked like one instead of The Champion, majuscule en effet.”

A kind smile followed her words to soften their blow.

“Do you believe he would not care for you if you were not la championne de Kalos?”  
“I don’t know…” She frowned at her coffee growing colder by the minute. “No one’s ever liked me until now. Most of Kalos didn’t like me until after I defeated Team Flare.”  
“No one has ever-?” Mireille sighed and patted the younger woman on the arm. “Let me take care of things. Drink up.”


	6. Chapter 6

It was a quarter past seven when she stood in front of the hotel lobby’s full-length mirror, staring at a reflection she was unfamiliar with. Being a proud and skilled hotelier, Mireille was able to get her last-minute appointments all over the city to procure dye jobs, treatments, waxing, jewelry, clothing, and all the little feminine accessories she’d never known she needed. She’d been curried, primped, polished, powdered, spritzed, and glamourized like a pageant Furfrou, but as she stared herself over, she felt her confidence tentatively breathing deeper and puffing its chest.

Her hair dyed a fresh golden-wheat color was curled and effortlessly gathered into a low chignon with a single, long curl dangling over her shoulder. Her makeup was fresh, with but a touch of glimmer around her eyes. The one-shouldered sky-blue satin dress Mireille had given her stamp of approval on clung to her figure becomingly and tiny stones dotted it, catching the light like burning stars. The skirt was done in a poufy balloon style that was all the rage. Her ankle-boots were velveteen and white as new snow, with a hidden heel to give her legs taut shapeliness. A white leather clutch kept her essentials, mints, and a new tube of candy-colored lipgloss together.

“You look like a gem,” Mireille crooned, pleased with her handiwork.  
“I never could have done it without your help,” she replied, fingering the tasteful jeweled necklace around her throat, the matching bracelet shimmering as her hand moved.

She turned and embraced Mireille, earning a warm chuckle. The elder woman’s hand patted her waist.

“It is what I do. This is not a luxury hotel for nothing.”  
“But you weren’t working today.”  
“Wasn’t I? Hm, I forgot.” A wink and a grin made both women laugh.

A demure cough nearby gained their attention.

“Mesdames, a monsieur Sycamore has arrived for you.”  
She caught Laurence’s eye and his warm, fatherly smile made her grin.  
“We’ll be right there,” Mireille answered for her, taking her hand and gently tugging her along.  
“Ah, un instant. The South Lumiose Pokémon Center left a message pour la championne. Your Ralts is recovering well. You are invited to visit in the morning.”  
“Thank you, Laurence,” she sighed with relief. “Thank you both for everything.”  
“C’est mon plaisir, mademoiselle. Bonne chance ce soir.”

As they left the artfully disguised alcove, she felt her smile weaken and the butterflies in her belly begin to two-step. She wasn’t sure exactly why she was nervous, there were simply too many reasons to pick just one. As they rounded the corner, Augustine came into view, though she nearly didn’t recognize him without his untamed hair and labcoat. A tap to her hand startled her and she heard Mireille quietly snicker.

“Be calm. Don’t worry. You are beautiful, ma belle.”  
“I… I can’t do this.”  
“Nonsense. As you said, it’s just dinner.”

Augustine heard their approach and turned. And paused. She watched his gaze pass over her and return again, dumbfounded; watched the way he convinced himself it was her and allowed his eyes to travel down her figure, and then back up again for good measure.

A blue-grey trench coat hung cape-like over his shoulders, just enough to keep warm. His shirt was left habitually open a few buttons at the collar. The ice-blue of it went wonderfully with the pale grey of his suit. A firey-red pocket square was neatly folded in his breast pocket and merlot-dyed leather belt and shoes echoed the punch of color.

“Seigneur, je ne savais pas que des anges étaient réelles jusqu’à ce moment…”

Mireille made a tiny, amused sound at that as she handed her charge forward. The Professor’s eyes were all for the sheepish young woman before him, and it warmed her heart to see the scene play out. She could see the truth they could not bear to acknowledge just yet; there was a spark there. It was in the shy glances they furtively cast one another, in the way she blushed when he brought her hand to his lips.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”  
“Mere minutes, ma belle. I would wait all night to have a glimpse of you. You are more radiant than the Tower herself.” That earned him an embarrassed smile.  
“Well, uhm… Thank you. Y-you look very handsome, too, Professor.”  
“Non. Augustine, if you please.” She nodded hesitantly.  
“Augustine, then.”

His smile was short-lived before another thought crossed his mind and he reached into his jacket.

“Ah, but I believe I must return these to you.” A quartet of Pokéballs bearing her initials were withdrawn and offered.  
“Oh, that’s right; I left my team with you before.”

Out of habit, she reached for where her belt would have been, and when her hand touched rhinestone-decked satin, she looked about her person for a second option. Her clutch would have to do.

“Thank you, I hope they weren’t difficult to manage. Blueblood is a bit needy and clingy for me.” He chuckled at that.  
“Je le sais, I watched him hatch. Non, your team were professional. You should be very proud of every one of them.”

He watched her zip the miniaturized transports into her handbag and placed a hand on hers to halt her.

“Attendre, I think I am forgetting something…”

She blinked and watched as he thought hard for a moment, patted his jacket as if searching himself for something missing, and then tugged the opposing side open.

“Ah, there it is!”

A single, slender rose was withdrawn and held forth. She bit her lip in a desperate effort not to laugh stupidly, or make an embarrassing sound. Her newly manicured hands reached to take it from his grasp and gingerly caress the petals.

“It’s beautiful,” was all she could manage.

She allowed herself a brief giggle to ease the pressure, before she erupted in hysterics. Glancing up at him made her tongue feel leaden and unsophisticated enough for words. Nearby, Mireille took the end of their greetings as a way to insert herself and prompt them out the door before they wasted the evening standing in the lobby simply staring at each other.

“Mademoiselle, I have your coat.”

Mireille heaved a mental sigh of relief as the girl was interrupted from her romantic fascination and nodded at the offer for her coat. It was actually Mireille’s coat –a fur-trimmed affair in white suede with embroidery around the hemline- but seeing as the girl had little more than what she’d arrived in, it had been necessary to match her attire with the correct outerwear. She stepped forward to slip the warm garment on and discretely gave her charge a pat on the shoulder as encouragement.

“If you would hand me the flower, I will have it placed in a vase in your room for your return.”  
“Oh, yes. That’s a good idea.”

The Professor held out his arm once his lady was attired for the frigid temperature and off they went. Mireille smiled as she watched them leave the glass doors of the hotel behind and climb into a waiting cab. She glanced down at the rose in her clasped hands, then over her shoulder where she knew Laurence was still waiting.

“Ah, l’amour,” he sighed with a fond smile as Mireille approached.  
“After all she has done for us, her happiness is the least I can aid her with.”  
“Vraiement. You have done right by your profession, ma petite.”  
“Merci, cher grand-papa.”

A kiss to the older man’s cheek gained her a content chuckle, and she continued on towards the storage rooms in search of a vase.

 

 

Seated at their table after their coats had been whisked off elsewhere and the Maitre D had explained the specials of the evening, they were finally alone. Their table was private; walled on three sides and set several steps above the main floor. After the whispers and stares they’d received as they were led through the restaurant, she was quite glad for the seclusion. The moderate, warm lighting and numerous burning fireplaces throughout the restaurant lent a feeling of warmth and hospitality, while still remaining undisputedly upscale and elite.

“Do you drink wine?”  
“Oh, uh, a little. Red or rosé, usually, unless you had one in mind? Wine is usually paired to the meal, right?”  
“It is best when the flavors are harmonious, oui.”

Her attention turned to the menu again.

“I don’t understand most of these dishes. Have you eaten here before?”  
“I have. Their menu is pre-arranged into… shall we say, performances?”  
“Oh…kay?”  
“Par exemple, the apéritif. He is like the warm-up act, to set the tone of the performance.”

He gestured to one pre-arranged meal as he explained and illustrated its various components.

“Après, le plat principal, your main course. She is the poetry and drama of the performance. Finalement, you have your sweet conclusion, le dessert. Of course, as with any performance, there are intermissions. That is the salad course and the cheese course. Each performance is conducted with an ideal drink to set the correct mood.”  
“I don’t know if I can eat that much.”  
“The platters are small, cheri. Six bites at most.”

They were politely interrupted as a waiter arrived to collect their orders. She let Augustine select first, and used his choices to compare against hers in relief. Their apéritif was a tiny glass of dry sherry to get the ball rolling, and a cherry tomato that had been hollowed out and stuffed with a swirl of cheese paste and accented with a sprig of herb. Augustine briefly explained that the tiny sample was called an amuse-bouche and that it was the chef’s way of declaring his culinary thesis. She ate it and declared it satisfactory.

“You know,” she began. “When I first came here, I thought that all Kalosians were totally obsessed with food.”  
“Ah, you are slightly mistaken. It is not food we adore, but the masterpiece a chef creates. Much in the same way an artist sculpts and paints, and we enjoy it all the same.”  
“Do you ever cook?”  
“Moi? Non, hardly. There are not enough hours in a day.”

He swirled the sherry gently.

“I remember you when you first began your journey.”  
“It wasn’t long after I’d moved here.” He nodded.  
“You are not she anymore. I have watched you become wise and strong.”

She gazed at the table. The butterflies in her stomach were doing a hoedown around that tomato.

“I don’t always feel that way,” she admitted. “For a long time, I felt very lost. I didn’t know where I belonged or who I was in this new country. It was really scary.”  
“You missed your old home.”

She nodded.

“May I ask why you agreed, then? Your heart must have struggled to be in two places at once.”  
“Well, at first I didn’t understand Pokémon very much. I lost my first gym battle, actually. I called home crying because Firefly had fainted and I felt like a terrible Trainer. I begged my mom to let me go back, to live with other family members if I had to.”  
“I did not know you had such sadness. Je suis désolé, I never would have asked it of you had I known.”  
“I never told anyone, I didn’t want their resentment.”

He made a curious sound, encouraging her to continue. She gazed out the doorway of their enclave, the butterflies in her belly now performing a masterful jive. She twisted her napkin in her hands, unconscious of doing so as she tried to marshal her courage for the nth time that evening.

“This is difficult for you,” Augustine tried to steer her back. “Let us talk of other things.”

She took a sip of her sherry and sighed.

“I never wanted to be here, in Kalos. I didn’t want to fit in, I didn’t want to make friends, I didn’t want to have any part in living here. I didn’t want to become a Pokémon Trainer…”  
Another sip, and another for good measure.  
“But then something changed when I came to Lumiose. Someone accepted me, even though I was too young, too foreign, too bad at battling, too stupid to know the language…”

She drained her glass and set it down a little harder than she’d intended to. Augustine was watching her curiously.

“I’m sorry that I shouted at you today. It was rude and you didn’t deserve my threat, either. I was just really stressed out.”

To her shock, he laughed. It was loud and jolly and it took several seconds for him to compose himself again.

“Ma belle,” he chuckled. “You are a comédienne.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean to say, merci de votre préoccupation sur moi. You would not have said such things if they were not important for you, just as you would not have argued for the Ralts if he had not been important as well.”

His grin remained, and she allowed herself to un-tense as it became clear he wasn’t making fun of her. _Quite the contrary,_ she realized as her cheeks began to warm.

“Toutefois, I am curious as to who it was that changed your mind.”

 _Oh crap, he just couldn’t let it go._ A pleading glance at her empty glass, and then her napkin was in her hands again, wrung doubly hard to compensate. She wished the waiter would come and interrupt already.

“Your companions were certainly friendly enough, non?”  
She shook her head.  
“Your petite Firefly?”  
Again she shook her head.

“It was you,” she whispered.  
“Je n'ai pas entendu.”

Mercifully, the waiter did interrupt to clear their empty dishes and replace them with their salad course. White wine was served in equally as petite glasses, and no sooner had her glass been filled did she gulp down half of it. The waiter was surprised when he turned around and saw its contents far lower than he had expected. A glance at the girl’s face said it all; he silently topped off the glass. She was offered another napkin for her lap, the waiter carefully not mentioning that the one in her hand looked about ready to tear, despite being linen.

Alone again, she could feel Augustine’s gaze on her and steadfastly stared at the tablecloth.

“I believe I heard you the first time,” he relented, his voice low and soothing. “I merely wished to hear you say it again.”

It was her turn to laugh, finally too nervous to keep it to herself. Her giggles were hidden behind the abused napkin until it simply hurt too much to laugh and she was quite sure the spirits were to blame for all of this.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help laughing!” She took a few deep breaths and prayed she wasn’t humiliating herself, or worse; him. “I’m so nervous! Ask me to battle a crime syndicate, a horde of Gyarados, hell, even Diantha again, and I would.”  
“I would not ask it of you, then. I prefer you here, in this petite salle, sipping your wine and laughing at how nervous you are.”  
“You’re too nice, Prof- Um, Augustine. Even when you’re mean, you’re nice.”  
“Again, I must apologize.” His expression sobered.  
“For being nice?”  
“Non. I am sorry I made you who you are. I am sorry your life was in danger, and the lives of your Pokémon. I never intended for you to face so much risk.”

_“You don’t have to do this anymore. You have more than fulfilled your obligation, cheri. Please.”_

“I have never told you how… J'avais peur que vous n'auriez jamais revenir… That day… I placed you in the path of danger, and I regret doing so, even that I did not know it at the time.”

She had known; from the moment he had called to her, from the way he had wrapped his arms around her and held her as if he alone could protect her from everything that had just transpired. Above all, he had never wanted to put her at risk.

“I don’t want your apology, because there is nothing to apologize for. It was my decision to go.”

_“I need to do this for myself. I need to finish what I started.”_

“You believed I could be a good Trainer. You believed I could win the championship.”  
“I believe I would love to kiss you were it not for this table in the way.”

This time they both laughed and the mood lightened considerably.


	7. Chapter 7

After dinner, they walked to Centrico Plaza, the Prism Tower lighting the way from the heart of the city. Talk throughout dinner had touched on lighter subjects, and to her amusement, he never once did ask about her Pokédex. As they took their leave of the restaurant, both the Chef de Cuisine and Directeur arrived at the vestibule to thank them for their patronage, a salutation many diners nearby took notice of, if they hadn’t already laid eyes on the city’s head Pokémon researcher arm in arm with the Champion of Kalos.

“Is it true our photos were in the papers?” she asked, glancing at another couple across the street openly staring and pointing at them. “My mother never buys them.”  
“Mais oui, all of Kalos knows their championne.”  
“No, I mean photos of us… together?” She gave him a worried glance. “That whole restaurant seemed to buzz louder than a Combee hive every time they saw us walk together.”

He sighed and glanced up at the dark sky barely visible beyond the glare of the city lights.

“Ma petite flamme, I am sorry to inform you, but you are a very important person. Any man escorting you would be subject to some degree of… public consideration.”  
“You are the researcher who sent me out into the field and made me who I am. They must think it slightly scandalous.”  
“Touché. I, too, would be jealous of the man that catches your eye.”

His proud hint of a smile did not go unnoticed, but she said nothing of it.

“You are quite the charmer, Augustine.”  
“I am glad it pleases you."

They continued their stroll in content silence, admiring the shop fronts closed for the night, the cafes glowing like embers, the twinkling lights of the Tower just ahead, growing ever larger as they neared. The streets were quieter at night, only couples walking closely and Skiddo dozing under street lamps for warmth.

“I’ve never had a chance to just walk through the city,” she remarked. “I was always on some deadline, on my way to somewhere else.”  
“Lumiose is a difficult place for newcomers, but she is warm-hearted and beautiful.”  
“I’m starting to learn that…” She glanced up at him. “Were you once new here, too?”  
“Oui. My family moved here when I was young –much younger than you were.”  
“Did you ever wish you could go home?”

The pathway opened up into the Plaza, and suddenly the Tower was looming over them, as bright as stars. For a moment she simply stared, breathless. For two years she had dashed in and out of town at hours around the clock, and never had she paused to appreciate what had always been there. A warm touch to her hand made her look down. Augustine had covered her exposed hand with his.

“Do you not feel it? Your hand is cold, cheri.”  
“I didn’t really notice.”

They continued to walk around the Tower, following the sound of music. It was coming from a trio of musicians occupying a bench. Their music was lighthearted, but soulful and passers-by would toss coins into the fedora by their feet.

She and Augustine stopped to take in the music. Now and then, he would stroke his thumb against her hand.

“Une petite histoire,” Augustine began, quietly so as not to upset the performers. “When I first came to Lumiose, I was afraid of the city. I had always lived in a quiet village, près de l'océan. Life was very simple. People did not have much, but they worked hard and were thankful for what they had.”

She tilted her head and laid her temple against his shoulder. Though they had worked for two years together, she realized she knew rather little about the man that somehow made her insides flutter. Those butterflies in her belly were taking a break, finally. She hoped they had worn themselves out.

“When my family moved here, I did not want to be with the other children. I found solace in Pokémon, in books, in my studies. I did make human friends, finally, but by then, I had decided that I would dedicate myself to learning about Pokémon. We were very different creatures, but we understood each other.”

She smiled fondly at that.

“I remember hearing about you on TV when I first moved to Kalos. You were like, the youngest person to ever try for a PhD in Pokémon studies. That’s pretty amazing.”

He ducked his head, smiling bashfully at the praise.

“Merci.”  
“Speaking of Pokémon, I hear the Ralts we found is recovering well.”  
“Vraiement? That is a relief.”  
“I was told we could visit in the morning. Would you like to come?”  
“Absolument.” He stroked her hand again. “I think you will be leaving tomorrow. When will you come back to Lumiose?”

She sighed, wondering the same question herself.

“I don’t know. Mom has an important race this weekend, if the snow hasn't canceled it. We'll be heading up to Anistar City for a few days.”

He let go of her hand to pull a few coins from his pocket and toss them into the hat. The guitarist nodded her thanks without missing a note.

“Come, now. It is late, ma belle, and you have a journey ahead of you tomorrow.”

They took a cab back to the hotel and he left the meter running as he escorted her inside. Only a receptionist remained in the lobby at that hour, and she was sleepily sipping a cup of coffee and paying them no mind.

“Thank you, Augustine. I had a very lovely evening.”  
“Le plaisir est tout à fait la mienne. Let this not be the last time.” She giggled bashfully at that.  
“Yes, we should do this again.”

A touch to her jaw tilted her face higher and he leaned in. The kiss was chaste and gentle, and it took her breath away. She wanted it again, but strangely, her body wouldn’t move.

“Bonne nuit et de beaux rêves, ma petite flamme.”

 

 

 _*Something is wrong,*_ Firefly thought, sensing Trainer’s distress. _*Everyone, Release!*_

The Pokémon assembled themselves in the sitting room of Trainer’s hotel room and looked around for signs of danger.

 _*I do not smell anything,*_ Pinkie reported.  
 _*I hear a terrible noise!*_ Dizzy Twister flared her wings aggressively. _*Someone is hurting Trainer!*_  
 _*Wait.*_

All eyes turned to Twiley. She shut her eyes and concentrated.

_*Trainer is in distress, but… there is no one else nearby.*_  
 _*She could be hurt, we have to go to her!*_

Blueblood and Pinkie led the charge into Trainer’s bedroom and ground to a halt, causing a pile-up behind them. Firefly jumped over her Team and ran to the bed.

_*Trainer! Are you hurt? Why are you making that sound?*_

She rolled over, a pillow clutched in her arms and muffling her squeals and laughter. Her Pokémon had let themselves out of their Pokéballs and were marshaled around her bed, prepared to fight off an unknown threat and staring at her with grave concern. She flung the pillow away and instead grabbed hold of her Delphox.

“Firefly, I just had the best. Night. _EVER_!!”

The declaration was punctuated by shrill giggles and much squealing and squeezing. Firefly hugged her Trainer in return and gave her Team a glance.

_*It is alright, Team. She is just very… happy.*_

The Team deflated and relaxed at that. Pinkie hopped up on the bed, her tail wagging fiercely. She headbutted Trainer to make room and crawled into her lap. Firefly was let go, her fur rumpled badly. The fox Pokémon demurely smoothed her coat.

_*Trainer and Professor had a fun night. There was no Attack!*_

“Attack? No, I wouldn’t attack him.” Pinkie rolled over, a gesture asking for a belly rub. Trainer obliged. “Unless it was to attack him with my lips!”

The Sylveon squirmed and yipped when her Trainer blew a raspberry on her belly. Firefly crossed her arms and turned her ears sideways, her equivalent of a hapless shrug. Pinkie had always been the spoiled one on the Team, ever since Trainer had received her as an Egg. Trainer played and romped with her the way Mamas did with their kits. Firefly missed her own kit. She hoped Spitfire was well.

_*Trainer’s Task is done? We will go home?*_

Trainer sobered at that and looked up, her hand idly smoothing Pinkie’s coat.

“Yeah, we’re going home tomorrow.”

The thought of leaving Lumiose felt heavy with dissatisfaction. _Just when things were getting all warm and fuzzy, too…_

 _*What about Ralts?*_ asked Blueblood, hugging Trainer’s calf.  
“We’ll visit him before we go. He’s healing well.”

Trainer grew quiet, then, as she pondered tomorrow.

“You know, I wonder what I’ll do with myself now. There are no gyms to beat, no titles to win, no thugs, no unknown Pokémon, no place I haven’t been…”

Pinkie sat up and licked her cheek. Trainer hugged her and sighed.

“So what if I’m the Champion? What does that mean for me? Where do I fit? For once, I don’t want to go home…”

 _*You are Trainer,*_ Dizzy said. _*You are our partner.*_  
 _*We are friends,*_ Twiley echoed.  
 _*You are Mama,*_ Pinkie cooed. Blueblood nodded.  
 _*You have love for Professor,*_ Firefly kneeled on the carpet. _*I think Professor has love for Trainer, too.  
Maybe you are meant to be partners as you and I are.*_

Twiley climbed up onto the bed to ponder this.

 _*If Trainer and Professor became a Team, does that mean all us Pokémon would become one Team, too?*_  
 _*I like Professor’s Pokémon! Galette is so strong!*_ cheered Blueblood. _*I want to be big and strong like Galette one day.*_

She smiled at her Charmander, glad he was finally shedding his shyness for assertiveness and aspiration.

“You’ll have to learn and grow and evolve more before you’re as big or bigger than Galette, Blueblood.”

She gasped.

“That’s it!”


	8. Chapter 8

Ralts was looking far better than he had the day before, she thought as she watched him sit and eat. Each hunk of Poké-kibble was daintily picked up and brought to his mouth in a very human sort of way that warmed her heart. An IV line was embedded in his shoulder, and fresh gauze bandages looped around his legs.

“You found him in the nick of time,” Nurse Joy told them as they clustered around the window into the ICU. “Ralts’ appetite is strong, and he is responding perfectly to the medication.”

Visitors were not allowed in the ICU; wild Pokémon were known to lash out at strangers, even ones that were helping it, and any domesticated Pokémon that was injured badly enough to even need the ICU was kept sheltered from their Trainer until the authorities worked things out. Most cases were never returned to their abusive Trainers, and instead sent to ranches to live out their days peacefully.

“Our medical Pokémon have confirmed that there is a severe but small portion of frostbite,” Joy added. “It will require removal, before the remaining healthy tissue becomes affected by the dead weight. It will also irritate him less in the long run, and make it easier for him to defend himself in the wild.”

The humans backed away from the windows, allowing their Pokémon the chance to peek in on their rescued friend. A quiet commotion sounded as they squabbled and tried to arrange themselves fairly.

“Will he be able to return to the wild?” Augustine asked. “Si non, I will care for him.”  
“Wait up,” she pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “It was my Pokémon that found him.”  
“Ma belle, a wild Ralts will not do well inside your house. My Labo has a large enclosed yard in the back, safe from predators and Trainers.”

“We do not know yet if Ralts will be capable of returning to the wild. It depends on his recovery after the surgery. It is also common for wild Pokémon under these circumstances to become at least partially domesticated, so he may not want to return to the wild. We will have to see.”

“Partially domesticated… That means he will only tolerate people caring for him, but won’t want to be their friend, right? He might not be friendly?”

Joy nodded and watched the younger woman frown thoughtfully. After a moment, the girl turned to Professor Sycamore.

“If it comes to that, then Augustine, you can take him. He’ll have more room and more Pokémon to socialize with, and he won’t have my mom trying to love on him all the time.”  
“Mon idée précisément.”

“Feel free to stay as long as you like,” Joy offered. “I must get back to my duties. If you have any other questions, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll be at the front reception.”  
“Merci bien.”  
“Thanks, Nurse Joy.”

They watched their Pokémon peer through the glass, the smaller ones climbing atop the larger ones for a better view. It was hard to tell they were two Teams when they were clustered together like that.

“Um, I was thinking…” She hesitantly began. “I wanna go back to school. I’m not going to be the League Champion forever, and I want to _do_ something with my life.”  
“That is a very good choice, cheri. As I said, you are wise.” He cast a benevolent smile her way.  
“Would you recommend any schools?”  
“Hmm… Oui, I may know a few. There is an académie in Camphrier that excels in battle strategy and Laverre has a université des beaux-arts.”  
“Not to sound cocky, but I’m the Champ. I think I know all the battle strategy I’ll ever need.” She grinned self-indulgently. “Though, I always liked Laverre, but I’m not very artistic… I might just waste everyone’s time, including my own.”  
“Mn, vous avez raison… Kiloude has a very respectable breeders apprenticeship.”  
“No thanks. I cried when it came time to trade away Firefly’s babies. I couldn’t go through that again.”

Augustine raked a hand through his hair as he thought it over, nearing on stumped.

“Well, there is a university in Lumiose that has a program for restaurants and tourism- You are shaking your head. D’accord… I know of another académie where rangers are trained. It is in North Lumiose.”  
“A ranger… I’d get to help Pokémon in the wild…”  
“It is very strict, very rigorous, cheri. Are you certain you want that?”  
“It can’t be any worse than what I’ve been through." She tapped her lips thoughtfully with her fingertips. "And it’s in Lumiose, you said?”

He looked at her and nodded, amusement crossing his face and growing ever more into a grin.

“Il semble que vous avez un plan.”  
“Il semble que you look quite happy with my plan, monsieur.”

He laughed, then, and wrapped her in his arms. He smelled of his hand-rolled clove-and-orange cigarettes, aftershave, and Pokémon kibble. She closed her eyes and snuggled close, smiling. _I always wanted this._

“Seigneur, how I miss you every time you are away,” he breathed against her hair.  
“If I get into the ranger academy, I’ll have to move to Lumiose. Then you’ll be begging me to get lost.”  
“Never. I would go to you if I could.”  
“Wouldn’t that give mom a surprise?”

They shared a chuckle at that. After a few more moments, they parted and recalled their respective Pokémon, then made their way out of the Poké-Center. She released Dizzy Twister and secured her coat and hat before climbing on.

“Bon voyage, ma belle.”  
“I promise not to not call you for two months.”  
His bark of laughter made her grin.  
“I promise not to let your Holo Caster rest if you forget.”  
“I will see you soon, Augustine-”

She reached forward to grab his lapel and dragged him close for a kiss. Like the one last night, it wanted more, but she drew back before either of them stretched out their already long goodbye. It rather pleased her to see the happy shock writ across his face as Dizzy Twister flexed and flapped her wings, and then with a brief sprint, the Talonflame had them airborne.

 

 

They spoke every other day via Holo Caster, but calls –even holograph ones- were a cheap substitute for the nuances of facial expression, embraces, kisses, and warmth. The rescued Ralts had been set free in the wild again, and she knew every time she traveled along Route 5, she would keep an eye out for him.

She returned to Lumiose two weeks later to tour the academy grounds and create her application. Despite being the League Champion and the Heroine of Kalos, they still grilled her through a three-hour interview. She’d never felt more normal and accepted.

Standing before Professor Augustine Sycamore’s desk, she handed him her Pokédex as well as her formal report, summarizing her findings on Mega Evolution. The Mega Ring sat primly atop her paperwork and Pokédex.

“As promised,” she told him.

He gestured to the chair beside her and slipped on a pair of red-framed reading glasses. Her Pokedex was connected to his computer to copy its data. While it transferred, he extracted the report from the envelope she had packaged it in and began to read.

She watched the subtle emotions –surprise, consideration, shock- play out as he flipped page after page, paused to examine the Mega Ring with an intense concentration, and then returned to reading over the report. She silently hoped it was what he needed for his doctorate. In between preparing for her academy interview and traveling with her mother, she had spent hours flipping through her travel journal and Pokedex, compiling every last factoid and nuance she could think of into her laptop, and then many more hours assembling that data into a sensible report.

Finally, Augustine set the report down and slipped off his glasses. For a long moment, he seemed lost in thought. And then he looked at her and shook his head.

“Ma belle, ma petite flamme, you are incredible. You are a force of nature.”  
“Was the report alright? I hope it was alright…”  
“C'était _parfait,_ ma cocotte. It was everything I needed for my research and more. I could kiss you. In fact, I will kiss you.”

He rose and came around his desk, and she stood, giggling at his enthusiasm. They met halfway, her arms reaching to embrace him as he pulled her near. He reached up and plucked her hat off as their lips met, dropped it somewhere on his desk, and ran his fingers through her hair.

She was the first to break away, gasping softly and mouth a little redder than before. He kissed her cheek, the bridge of her nose, and her forehead.

“I owe you everything,” he whispered. “Merci de cinq millions de fois.” A kiss to her temple. “Elle a sauvé mon pays, elle sauve les Pokémon, elle a risqué sa vie pour ma recherché…”

She chuckled and nestled close, her face against his neck. She reached up and stroked her fingers through the hair at his nape.

“You’re very welcome, mon amour. I would not have done it for anyone else.”

He kissed her throat and she sighed. Yes, this is where she belonged.


End file.
